


Olive Branches

by Paclipas



Series: Forgiven not Forgotten [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Arguing, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Castiel stands up for himself, Dean Has Some Explaining To Do, Dean Winchester Has Issues, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Passive-Aggressive Castiel (Supernatural), Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Stubborn Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:47:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paclipas/pseuds/Paclipas
Summary: "Dean prepared himself for Cas to stop just a bit too close to him, to look up into sad blue eyes that were full of regret, open for the usual apology that came after he disappeared on them.Instead, the angel walked right past him."In which Cas stops being a doormat and Dean runs out of olive branches.Spoilers for everything Season 15.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Forgiven not Forgotten [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564558
Comments: 5
Kudos: 127





	Olive Branches

**Author's Note:**

> I took serious issue with the way Dean lashed out at Cas in the aftermath of 15x03, and though I love those two to death and ship them forever and always, I had to give our angel his spine back and stop him from taking all the emotional abuse that Dean has been hurling at him the last couple of seasons. 
> 
> I may continue this by exploring the possibilities of them forgiving each other and finding their way back to their friendship (by which of course I mean undying love, who am I kidding) in the future, though for now this definitely stands alone.
> 
> Enjoy.

In moments when life just sort of seems to happen at you, time passes in an odd way. It either appears to be going way too slow, keeping you trapped in a situation you desperately want to escape from, or it rushes past you so fast you barely get to process what’s going on. Dean somehow felt like both was happening at the same time. Or maybe that was the Whiskey. Probably the Whiskey. As of late the only consistent way to keep track of time was by the steadily disappearing liquor from whatever glass or bottle he got his hands on. He wasn’t sure what time it was. Or what day even. All he knew was that his current bottle was damn near empty so he probably had been sitting there at the edge of the table for a while. Where Cas had left him. Like he always did. He swallowed the last remains the bottle would give when Sam walked in.

Dean didn’t turn around to look at his brother but he could feel the weight of his eyes at the back of his head.

«Where’s Cas?» Sam asked, without any accusation in his voice. Oblivious to the abandonment.

«Gone.» The fewer words Dean could reply with, the better. The alcohol always seemed to tie his tongue. Well, more than usual that is.

«Gone?» Sam’s voice sounded hollow. «What do you mean ’gone’?»

«I mean _gone_. Left.» Dean flailed his right arm in an aimless gesture. «Away in another castle.» His erratic movement hit the bottle by his side and it crashed to the floor, breaking into pieces. He still didn’t turn around, continued staring blankly ahead at the staircase.

«Oh.» Sam left without asking for an explanation that Dean was too drunk to give anyway.

Time began to morph again, spinning in his head like the room around him did as he tried to get off his spot and across to where the next bottle was waiting patiently to be abused like its predecessor. The glass on the floor made an unpleasant crunching sound as it was crushed further under his weight but he ignored it. Cleaning up would be a job for hungover Dean. Some other day.

The hunter felt an odd sense of detachment when he noticed his vision grow blurry with the familiar curtain of tears forming even as he fought them. There was nothing left to cry about. He had mourned everyone in his life before, sometimes more than once. He chuckled to himself as he reached out for the only anchor to his sanity he had left and poured himself a glass. He lifted the crystal to his lips with enough momentum to spill some on his henley. Not that he noticed it.

With the glass in hand he turned to stumble into the general direction of his room. Or any room with a bed, really. He hesitated after the first step, however, and reached back to grab the bottle by its neck. Provision to get him through the night.

When Dean lay in – _his?_ \- bed two glasses of whatever whsikey he was drinking later, he had long given up the fight against his pointless tears. They kept coming, one by one, reminding him that no matter how hard he denied it, he still cared. Or maybe it was the whiskey.

Probably the whiskey.

\--

Things got a lot easier after that, at least as long as he didn’t think too hard about them. Get up in the morning, get through the day. Rinse and repeat. Avoid the whiskey.

Until Lillith.

Nothing mattered after Lillith. Because nothing was real anymore, was it? They had never been free, not for one second. Every bit of happiness, it was all a big fat lie. They were happy when Chuck _let_ them be, just like he was the one to take away that happiness as he pleased once he got too bored with them. And Dean had had it with the uncertainty. He wasn’t going to anxiously sit and wait for the next chapter in the almighty story-line Chuck was shitting out. No.

Dean Winchester was going to take a staycation. The first one that was completely by choice, and even if it was _Chuck’s_ choice he didn’t give a damn. Hell, if it was Chuck’s will for him to stay in his room, munch down on some cereal and watch cartoons then Dean could almost be on board with that.

 _And he would have gotten away with it too_ _if it wasn’t for-_ Cas _._

The angel came back less than a week after Eileen had gotten her physical body back. Just waltzed in through the door, warding be damned. Dean wasn’t even completely sure how long it had been since Cas had left. Weeks, probably. Could have been months, for all that he cared. Bastard couldn’t even give Sam the time of day or call back, yet had the nerve to just barge in like that.

The snarky greeting got stuck in Dean’s throat as he noticed Cas walking down the metal stairs with slow deliberate steps. He seemed tired. Done. It was relatable enough that Dean decided to cut the angel some slack, not that he deserved it. He leaned back into his chair, wincing slightly when his still bruised ribs protested against the movement. Man he missed the days where he could just walk off being thrown around by a witch.

«Dean.» Cas’ trademark greeting felt so familiar and yet it sounded distant. Dean pretended to be very interested in peeling the label off the bottle he had been cradling for the better part of an hour. He prepared himself for Cas to stop just a bit too close to him, to look up into sad blue eyes that were full of regret, open for the usual apology that came after he disappeared on them.

Instead, the angel walked right past him.

Dean frowned at the unexpected turn of events. This was new. In the distant hallways he could hear the echoing murmur of his brother’s voice, surprised but delighted about the visitor. Well, at least that made one of them happy. Dean took a swig of his beer. It was as lukewarm as Cas’ greeting had been.

\--

Time did it’s warp-y thing, and Dean had no idea how long he had been sitting there in his chair without moving. The label hung in shreds off the bottle. He set it aside with a sigh and got up. He could still hear voices so it couldn’t have been too long.

He found his brother in front of his laptop in the bunker kitchen. Big shocker. Cas and Eileen were sitting on the opposite side of the table, apparently in deep conversation. Dean felt oddly out of place at the scene. Which he of course intended to charmingly overplay by plucking one of the numerous fast food menus off a shelf.

«Anyone want some food?» he asked, looking through the options as if he _wasn’t_ going for the Cheese’n Bacon, extra cheese, extra bacon. A glance past the menu at his brother told him the answer even before any words left Sam’s mouth. He met Dean’s eyes disapprovingly.

«I’m good.» He then turned his gaze toward Eileen, signing to her as he spoke. «How about you?»

Her reply was directed at Dean. «No, thank you.» She smiled but her eyes darted toward Cas for a moment. He hadn’t acknowledged the question so far and Dean couldn’t see his face from where he was standing.

«Cas?»

«I’m not hungry.»

Dean didn’t know why that reply stung, but it did. He smiled at the trio. «Suit yourself,» he said, not letting his bravado falter as he patted his pocket for his keys.. «I’ll just pick something up for myself then.»

By the time he he revved Baby’s engine he didn’t feel all that hungry anymore either.

What was Cas’ deal? Not that he was usually a big talker, but at least a ’Hello’ would have been appropriate, especially after how they had parted ways. Sure, Dean had said some shitty things but it hadn’t been the first time. Usually Cas understood.

Maybe this time it was on Dean to extend an olive branch.

\--

He returned to the bunker only to find the kitchen empty. It had gotten dark outside but Dean didn’t think it was that late. Eileen had the excuse f still getting used to, well, being alive. And Sam was usually watching over her like a hawk. Or maybe it was more like a concerned robin, seeing as his brother’s gentle behavior around the girl didn’t necessarily resemble a bird of prey.

That just left Cas. Not that Dean was looking for the guy or anything as he strolled from room to room in the common area. He eventually found him in a storage room, flipping through one of Rowena’s journals. There was definitely tension in his posture, Dean noticed. He resisted the urge to lay a comforting hand on Cas’ shoulder, instead opting to lean against the opposite shelf a safe distance away. When Cas again failed to acknowledge his presence he fought the irritation boiling inside of him once more. He held out the paper bag in his hand as an offering of truce. Grease stains had formed around where two burgers rested inside.

«Thought you might’ve changed your mind,» he stated, clearing his throat after his voice cracked just enough to give away his nerves.

«I told you I was not hungry, Dean,» Cas said as he turned another page, his eyes glued to the journal.

«C’mon,» Dean reached into the paper bag and pulled out one of the individually wrapped sandwiches. He offered it to Cas. «It’s a cheeseburger! I know you want it.»

He could basically already hear a final protest when Cas’ stomach betrayed him with a decidedly un-angelic grumble.

«Alright,» the angel mumbled in defeat before closing the journal and putting it aside. He took the burger from Dean’s hand. «Thank you.»

«Atta boy,» Dean said almost gloatingly as he reached into the bag to grab a handful of fries to stuff in his mouth.

They ate in relative silence under the neon lights of the dusty storage room, not moving from their respective shelves. Every once in a while Dean would offer the bag to Cas, and Cas would take some of the fries. It was nice. Dean was a big believer in the peace-building properties of burgers.

Once they were finished, Dean wiped his greasy fingers on his jeans out of habit, though he did feel self-conscious once he saw Cas produce a napkin out of his pocket to use for the same purpose. The angel collected his trash together, let the journal he’d been reading disappear into his coat pocket and began walking toward the door. Before he could leave the room, Dean spoke up.

«So, we’re good?»

Cas stopped in the doorway and turned around, looking fully at Dean for the first time since his arrival. The hunter was unprepared for the raw fury in the blue eyes he always thought he knew so well. «If you truly are under the assumption a burger is all it takes to right things between us, you do not know me at all.»

The words had been said in a calm, even voice but they kept echoing in the hunter’s ears long after Cas had turned around and left. In fact, he could still hear them when he was lying in bed unable to sleep hours later.

_You do not know me at all._

But Dean _did_. Or at least he thought so, after what – ten years? Cas wasn’t one to hold a grudge. Against others, sure. But never against Dean. He didn’t even remember what he’d said exactly, he just remembered being angry. So freaking _angry_ that Cas had gone and let his righteousness ruin yet another one of their plans. So why the hell was _Cas_ the one expecting an apology?

Before he even realized he was moving, Dean already found himself outside his room walking toward the bedroom usually occupied by the angel during his stays.

«What do you want from me, Cas?» he bellowed as he waltzed right into the room. Cas was sitting on the edge of the bed, his coat and tie in a sad pile on the mattress next to him. He had been unbuttoning his cuffs but had stopped mid-motion to look at Dean with that same furious look as hours before.

«I did not tell you to come in,» the angel said coldly.

«Yeah well I didn’t ask,» Dean retorted, closing the door behind himself and pulling up the chair in the corner to sit down, facing the angel. He folded his arms over his chest. «What do you want me to say? I’m sorry.»

The fury in Cas’ eyes made the hairs on Dean’s arms stand up. «What for, exactly?» the angel asked in the same composed voice he had used with Dean all day.

«Really?» Dean huffed out an annoyed laugh. «Jesus, Cas. Look. What I said, it wasn’t nice. I was angry. I’m sorry.»

Cas rolled up the sleeves of his now un-cuffed shirt. «You’re still angry,» he stated.

«Damn right I am!» Dean’s patience was running thin and an olive branch could only reach so far. «We found out God- _Chuck_ is still just toying with us while you’re out there doing who knows what.» And yeah, even by Dean’s standards this was beginning to look like a very questionable apology at best.

«It wasn’t _what_ you said, Dean. You have said more h urtful things before. You’ve told me to _leave_ before. The difference was that... this time you meant it. I could see it in your eyes then and still see it now. You genuinely feel I betrayed you. «

«We had a plan!»

The burning fury in Cas’ eyes made way for a softer, pained expression. «No. We had hope. Only we put it into the wrong hands. All of us.»

«We’ve literally fought God. How much worse could one juiced-up demon have been?» Honestly, Dean was kind of offended that Cas didn’t think they could have handled Belphegor.

«I was not willing to take the risk.» The angel’s hands were balled into fists in his lap, betraying the anger that must have still been bubbling under the surface, though he kept perfectly, inhumanly, still. It drove Dean mad.

«It wasn’t your fucking call to make!»

«And why not? Because it wasn’t what _you_ told me to do? Because I didn’t just ’get o v er’ working with that vile parasite as he was using Jack as a _vessel_?»

«Jack was not in there any more.»

Cast cocked his head to the side ever so slightly. «Imagine it had been Sam. Or Ma-»

«Don’t you _dare_ say her name.» Dean yelled, getting up from his chair. He began to pace the room to give way to his agitation. He hadn’t meant to lose his composure like that, especially with the angel making use of his stoic facade. He sighed, running a hand over his face. «Listen. What happened with Jack, it was awful. He was- a great kid.»

Cas laughed, though the sound resembled a sob. «You were ready to kill him.» The angel turned slightly so he cold look at the hunter. «He was like a son to me, Dean!»

«Which is why you weren’t exactly the best judge of the situation!» Dean threw up his arms in a helpless gesture.

Now it was Cas' turn to get up , his calm finally cracking open to reveal the turmoil he had been keeping inside. «And _you_ were?! After what he had done to-» He smartly cut himself off, correcting himself. «After what had happened?»

«I didn’t _want_ to do it, Cas, I swear. And I didn’t! Shouldn’t that count for something?»

«You know what, Dean. I may be a fool for saying this, but yes. It would have counted.» Cas stepped closer, as he had done countless times before. «If you then had not proceeded to hold my grief, my _pain_ , against me.» The angel was standing much too close, though his proximity felt neither threatening nor as intimate as it had on previous occasions over the years.

«I was nothing but an inconvenience to you. All that mattered was how _you_ felt. Who _you_ were mourning.» He took a step back and Dean let out a breath he had not realized had been caught in his throat. «I always did my best to support you and Sam, despite everything. Because I thought of you as my family. You and Sam, and Jack.»

There’s many things Dean could have done at that moment.

He could have reassured the angel that of course he was family.

He could have gotten over his pride and come up with a heartfelt apology, for this and all the other times he had taken the angel for granted in one way or another.

He could have reached out and pulled the angel into one of their rare embraces.

Hell, he could even have just shut up to not make things worse.

But this was Dean Winchester. So what he did instead was provoking the angel further.

«If that’s the way you feel, why’d you come back?»

«It was the right thing to do,» Cas said, his voice much calmer again. He wasn’t taking Dean’s bait to escalate the situation even more. «I cannot be out there feeling sorry for myself and running from God. Or you. I fell from Heaven for my beliefs, I won’t abandon them now when they matter most. I’m not here because you want or need my help. I’m here because it is my choice to help. You want to be angry with me? Question my loyalty to you? That is _your_ choice, Dean.»

Everything about the angel was now void of emotion. There was no fury, no sadness, his hands hung by his sides. He looked like he had in the beginning, all those years ago, before he had gained all his oh so very human mannerisms. Sometimes Dean forgot how much Cas had changed.

«Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d prefer to be alone for the night.» Cas motioned for Dean to leave the room. The hunter couldn’t get his legs to work.

«Cas... «

There was a moment of awkward silence as they stared at each other, the hunter at a loss for words, the angel impatient. Eventually Cas was the first to move, heaving a heavy sigh. «I’ll be back in the morning.» And instead of disappearing in the blink of an eye, he walked out of the room.

Dean stood there still frozen in his spot until the heavy sound of the bunker’s main door closing released him from his stupor. He looked forlornly around the room, trying to process the day’s events. He sat down on the bed, his hand brushing up against the bunched-up fabric of Cas’ coat. For a moment he caught himself hoping that Cas wouldn’t be cold without it. If he was then it was surely the least of the angel’s worries.

Dean dropped backwards onto the mattress as the full gravity of Cas’ words washed over him. _D_ _ean_ had fucked up their trust. Bad. Possibly irreparably.

So forget the olive branch.

Dean would need the whole damn tree for his next apology to mend anything at all.


End file.
